Jack's Ward eBook

Reading all this in his manner, she had the delicacy
to forbear intruding upon him questions to which she
saw it would only give him pain to reply.

Not so Aunt Rachel.

“I needn’t ask,” she began, “whether
you’ve got work, Timothy. I knew beforehand
you wouldn’t. There ain’t no use in
tryin’! The times is awful dull, and mark
my words, they’ll be wuss before they’re
better. We mayn’t live to see ’em.
I don’t expect we shall. Folks can’t
live without money; and if we can’t get that,
we shall have to starve.”

“Not so bad as that, Rachel,” said the
cooper, trying to look cheerful; “I don’t
talk about starving till the time comes. Anyhow,”
glancing at the table, on which was spread a good
plain meal, “we needn’t talk about starving
till to-morrow with that before us. Where’s
Jack?”

“Gone after some flour,” replied his wife.

“On credit?” asked the cooper.

“No, he’s got money enough to pay for
a few pounds,” said Mrs. Harding, smiling with
an air of mystery.

“Where did it come from?” asked Timothy,
who was puzzled, as his wife anticipated. “I
didn’t know you had any money in the house.”

“No more we had; but he earned it himself, holding
horses, this afternoon.”

“Come, that’s good,” said the cooper,
cheerfully. “We ain’t so bad off
as we might be, you see, Rachel.”

“Very likely the bill’s bad,” she
said, with the air of one who rather hoped it was.

“Now, Rachel, what’s the use of anticipating
evil?” said Mrs. Harding. “You see
you’re wrong, for here’s Jack with the
flour.”

The family sat down to supper.

“You haven’t told us,” said Mrs.
Harding, seeing her husband’s cheerfulness in
a measure restored, “what Mr. Blodgett said about
the chances for employment.”

“Not much that was encouraging,” answered
Timothy. “He isn’t at all sure when
it will be safe to commence work; perhaps not before
spring.”

“Didn’t I tell you so?” commented
Rachel, with sepulchral sadness.

Even Mrs. Harding couldn’t help looking sober.

“I suppose, Timothy, you haven’t formed
any plans,” she said.

“No, I haven’t had time. I must try
to get something else to do.”

“What, for instance?”

“Anything by which I can earn a little; I don’t
care if it’s only sawing wood. We shall
have to get along as economically as we can—­cut
our coat according to our cloth.”

“Oh, you’ll be able to earn something,
and we can live very plain,” said Mrs. Harding,
affecting a cheerfulness she didn’t feel.

“Pity you hadn’t done it sooner,”
was the comforting suggestion of Rachel.

“Mustn’t cry over spilt milk,” said
the cooper, good-humoredly. “Perhaps we
might have lived a leetle more economically, but I
don’t think we’ve been extravagant.”

“Besides, I can earn something, father,”
said Jack, hopefully. “You know I did this
afternoon.”